


The Best of Three

by dracoqueen22



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Julian Learns He Deserves Nice Things, Multi, Poly Relationship, Post Devil's Defeat, dom/sub themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: He can have them both, and they can have him, and sometimes, Julian can’t believe how lucky he is.
Relationships: Asra/Julian Devorak/Nadia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	The Best of Three

Nadia’s massive bedroom is warm from the late afternoon sunlight spilling from the open windows. It’s nice against his skin, chasing away the potential shivers. Julian hasn’t got a stitch of clothing on, and he thinks, without the sun he might be a bit chilly.  
  
Or maybe he wouldn’t be, because the heat in the Countess’ eyes is enough. She watches him intently, her lips curved into an indulgent smile, her hair in loose waves around her face.  
  
Nadia masters him with ease, and Julian wants to be nowhere else but right here, kneeling before her, a thumb scrubbing along his bottom lip. Nadia is close to naked, but not naked enough, her sheer robe giving him glimpses of the treasure beneath.  
  
He licks his lips and catches her thumb.  
  
“Asra is late,” she says, with a glance to her balcony and the gradually sinking sun. “It’s such a pity. You’d think he’d hurry knowing who waits for him.” Her gaze drops back to his, liquid with want, and she strokes her thumb over his bottom lip.  
  
Julian presses a kiss to her thumb and leans into her touch. Her eyes eyes go dark and hungry, her stare like a touch to his bare skin. He works harder on gripping his thighs, rather than the ache of his cock at the apex of them.  
  
“Asra’s not good at being on time,” Julian says around the thumb in his mouth. He laves it with attention, leaning in toward Nadia, trying to coax more of her touch as he gives her his most enticing look.  
  
Nadia quietly laughs, and it’s such a charming sound. She shifts, crossing one leg over the other, allowing a tantalizing glimpse of the shadowy recess between her thighs before it’s gone again. His mouth waters. He stifles a whimper.  
  
“So I’ve heard. We’ll have to break him of that terrible habit, won’t we?” she murmurs, and her hand slides away from his lip, brushing hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear. “It isn’t polite to leave a Countess waiting.”  
  
“No, it’s not,” Julian agrees as her fingers thread through his hair, scratching at his scalp, and making him tingle. “He’s so rude. I highly recommend you punish him.”  
  
“Oh? And how shall I do that?” Nadia keeps dragging her nails over his scalp, petting his hair, and his insides flip-flop with want, his cock half-hard and getting thicker.  
  
Julian falters for a moment, too focused on her hand, the gentle carding shifting into a subtle grip and an even subtler tug.  
  
“You could -- hmmm -- spank him,” Julian suggests, aiming for sly but failing when she pulls him closer and he goes to her without resistance.  
  
Nadia chuckles. “Now there’s a thought.” Her fingers tighten in his hair, not enough to hurt, but enough he can absolutely feel the tug against his scalp.  
  
Julian moans, shuffling forward, not caring that it’s awkward. That he probably looks ridiculous, shuffling toward her elegant lounge on the settee, his too-long limbs awkwardly akimbo. It’s worth it, for the way her breathing hitches, the color rising in her cheeks, the way she shifts -- again -- and more of her robe slithers aside, revealing the ample curve of one breast.  
  
His mouth waters.  
  
The door clicks open behind them, and Julian freezes, praying to anything that’ll listen it’s Asra and not Portia because there are some things one’s little sister does not need to know.  
  
“Starting without me, I see,” comes Asra’s familiar voice, his footsteps whisper soft as the door clicks shut in his wake.  
  
“You are late,” Nadia says, leaning back, away from Julian, and he wants to snap at Asra for causing her to withdraw, though her fingers stay tangled in his hair.  
  
“Am I?” Asra asks.  
  
Nadia tilts her head, her attention shifting from Julian to Asra, her lips curved in amusement. Of course Asra would steal attention; he always does.  
  
“You can’t blame us for starting without you,” Nadia says. “I know you can see how delectable the Doctor is. I should never leave him waiting, should I?”  
  
“You absolutely can’t,” Julian agrees, trying to glance askance at Asra, but he’s still out of view. “It would be cruel, it would. And you, milady, aren’t a cruel person. You are far too kind and generous.”  
  
“Indeed, I am. And you, Doctor, are full of flattery.” Nadia chuckles and cups his face, her thumb stroking the curve of his jaw.  
  
“Flattery is not the only thing he’s full of,” Asra says, from right behind Julian’s left shoulder. He takes over for Nadia, fingers scratching Julian’s scalp, and a tingle radiates outward, as if he’s using his magic somehow.  
  
It’s second-nature to Asra, Julian knows. He does everything with the taste of magic clinging to it, and Julian has learned to lean into it with absolute thirst. Sure, he’d been afraid, but Nadia has helped him appreciate a new perspective.  
  
His cock throbs. He’s been hard since he knelt before Nadia, and the existence of the two of them, at the same time, so near, sends Julian’s lust rocketing skyward.  
  
“He’s been known to spew quite the bullshit,” Asra says.  
  
Nadia shifts again, and the scent of her arousal wafts toward him. Julian’s mouth waters, and he tries to lean in toward her, to offer his services, but Asra’s grip on his hair tightens, reeling him back, away from the call of Nadia’s bare thighs.  
  
Julian groans at the pull on his scalp, not quite pain, but the delicious edge of it. He rocks back on his heels, shoulders hitting Asra’s legs, his clothing whisper soft where it brushes Julian’s bare skin.  
  
“I’ll have you know everything I say is completely genuine,” Julian says, trying to smile around the urgent need to bury his face between Nadia’s thighs, or barring that, turn and rub his cheek against Asra’s groin. “As is everything I do. Completely genuine. Allow me to show you.” He licks his lips and offers Nadia -- more likely to be swayed -- his most winning smile.  
  
Nadia laughs, and Julian’s skin tingles. He tries to reach for his cock, but Asra gives a warning twist to his hair, and it’s just enough to make him moan. His eyelids flutter, and he drops his hands. He supposes he’ll have to wait for permission.  
  
Ah, the agony is in the waiting. But it’s a sweet agony, too. Bending the knee to Nadia and Asra, putting him into their tender mercy, between the push and pull of their regard.  
  
“Patience, Ilya,” Asra murmurs. “I know you’re not very good at it, but do try.”  
  
Asra’s knee leans into Julian’s back, between his shoulderblades, nudging Julian forward enough he can finally -- _finally_ \-- touch Nadia. Julian breathes a sigh of relief, deeply inhaling the scent of her.  
  
Nadia clucks her tongue. “Now, now. Don’t be cruel, Asra. He’s doing his best.”  
  
“Yeah, Asra, I’m doing my best.” Julian rests his hands on Nadia’s knees, her skin warm beneath his palms, and silky-smooth. He could touch her all day, dragging the tips of his fingers over her skin, finding every little freckle and mark, memorizing them with a kiss. “I’m being very, very good. Aren’t I, milady?”  
  
Her eyes sparkle at him. “The very best,” Nadia says with a hum, and she cups his cheek, her thumb sliding over his lips once more. “I’m quite proud of you, Doctor. You’ve done so very well tonight.”  
  
The praise hums in his blood, flushes him with heat, sends a wave of gooseflesh over his body. He leans into her touch, further toward her.  
  
He can’t see Asra’s face, but he can hear the scowl. “You spoil him.”  
  
“I deserve to be spoiled,” Julian retorts, and he’d look over his shoulder, but he’d rather focus on Nadia, the dip of her robe, the valley of her breasts and the slither of the fine silk as it rides further and further up her thighs.  
  
Nadia hums. “I do not know if I’m convinced of that yet, but we’ll see.” She glances past him, at Asra, and arches one elegantly sculpted brow. “You’re wearing far too much, Asra. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable while I allow Julian a chance to prove himself.”  
  
“Only because you asked, Nadi.” Asra leans down, fingers still tangled in Julian’s hair, and whispers warm into his ear. “I’ll be back,” he says, and walks away, heedless of the shiver that’s taken over Julian at the promise.  
  
He resists the urge to lean after Asra, turning his head just enough to see Asra disrobing in his peripheral vision, carefully removing layer after colorful layer.  
  
Nadia’s thumb scrapes his bottom lip, and she turns his face back toward her. “Eyes front, Doctor.”  
  
“Yes, milady.” He drags up a smile. If he can’t watch Asra, he can, at the very least, give Nadia the undivided attention she deserves. “What can I do for you?”  
  
She kisses him, and Julian sighs into it.  
  
Nadia kisses like she runs Vesuvia, with a fierceness and a gentleness and determination. Her grip on his chin doesn’t relent, and she kisses like she intends to claim him, and Julian is keen on letting her. She can keep him as long as she wants.  
  
“That,” she says, with a nip to his bottom lip, “is a very good start.” She pulls back, fingers caressing the underside of his jaw in a come hither gesture.  
  
Julian leans in to keep contact, chasing her retreat. He slides between her knees, her thighs, his bare shoulders caressed by the silky smooth of her bare thighs. Her robe slides open in a susurrus of sound, baring the shadowed depths, and Julian doesn’t whimper.  
  
(he absolutely does)  
  
He kisses her stomach, open-mouthed, below her belly button. He drags his lips down, nuzzles the mound of her, and further still, inhaling the scent of her arousal, the scent of her. He finds her clit with his lips, and her breathing hitches, her fingers tangling in his hair.  
  
Julian moans as he licks her, the taste of her thick and sweet on his tongue.  
  
Nadia breathes a sigh, a satisfied one, and Julian buries his face in her, licking and sucking, teasing, gentle with his teeth but eager with his tongue. She curls her thighs over his shoulders, opens herself to him, and he’s a gentleman, he is, as he lavishes her with appreciative kisses.  
  
He wants to touch himself, but he can’t, so he cradles her ass and tilts her toward him, and she makes a happy noise and buries her fingers in his hair to direct him where she wants him most.  
  
She moans again, but it’s muffled, and he glances up to see Asra kissing her, his hand sliding down her chest to caress one of her breasts. Julian throbs, grips her harder, doubles his efforts until her fingernails dig into his scalp, until she grinds down on his face, and she comes with a sharp cry of her home language, Asra purring something at her that’s full of approval and swallowing her pleasure with another kiss.  
  
They’re beautiful together, and a sharp stab of want seizes Julian. He keeps working, gentling his licks through the twitches of Nadia’s pleasure, until she pulls away from sheer sensitivity. She smiles indulgently up at Asra before her gaze turns toward him.  
  
“Thank you, Julian,” she says, stroking his face and guiding him toward her.  
  
Julian leans into her like a flower toward the sun, captivated by the flush to her face, the light in her eyes. Asra nearby glitters with mischievous promise.  
  
“Anytime,” Julians says, and aims for a bright grin, his tongue flicking over his lips where he can still taste her. As he climbs up her body, his cock drags over her bare skin, and it’s a sweet torture. “I am,” he says, as he nuzzles her nearest breast and hears her breathing hitch, “very good.”  
  
“You’re also a mess.” Asra’s fingers thread through Julian’s hair in a perfect grip, and Julian maybe-probably (definitely) whimpers as Asra tugs him up into a kiss.  
  
Asra kisses in a way that completely belies his gentle persona. He starts off soft and sweet, and just when Julian opens to him, the rest is hunger and claiming. Julian melts into it, his cock throbbing. He dribbles pre-come on Nadia’s thigh, and idly wonders if he’ll have to lick it up later.  
  
“I like him messy.” Nadia hums, her palm dragging down Julian’s bare chest, across his belly, fingers scratching through the fine dusting of hair, digging through his curls, before curving over his cock. “It’s a good look for him.”  
  
Julian bucks into her hand, whimpers into the kiss, and chases Asra’s retreating lips, curved into a devilish smirk to rival Lucio at his most menacing. (Or at least what Lucio thinks is menacing.)  
  
“To be fair, anything looks good on me,” Julian says, aiming toward pride and bravado to hide the yearning which burns under his skin. “Particularly when it is either of you. Or both. Both is, ahem, good.” His face pinks at their delighted expressions, and Asra’s quiet chuckle.  
  
“Both is a bold suggestion.” Nadia strokes him with light squeezes and careful drags of her nails. A shiver crawls up his spine, spreads heat through his veins. “Is that what you want? Both of us?”  
  
Julian moans, rocking into her hand, head tilted into Asra’s grip and the stroke of Asra’s finger around his ear. “I want whatever you want.”  
  
Hands tighten around him, and Julian squeaks.  
  
“No, no. We’ve had this conversation, if I recall.” Nadia’s voice is a sharp chastisement. Julian shivers, his pulse throbbing in his ears, his cock threatening to burst save for her grip on him. “You are allowed to have wants, Doctor. And if you don’t…”  
  
Their hands start to slide away, her fingers abandoning him, Asra drawing back, Julian’s hair slipping through his fingers, leaving him bereft and cold.  
  
Julian whimpers. He remembers the promise. He fights for the words, on the back of his tongue, where he’s used to keeping them behind a babble of dramatics.  
  
“I want-- I want--” He scrabbles for them, cock throbbing and desperate. “You. Ah. both of you. Together. I want.” His face burns, it’s hard to say it, because he’s so accustomed to deferring. But he can want and defer, can’t he?  
  
He can do both.  
  
“Better,” Nadia purrs, and Asra slides along his back, cock nestling in the cleft of his ass.  
  
Julian shakes, caught between them. It feels as if energy crawls along his skin, desperate for them, for a touch.  
  
He reaches back, threads his fingers through Asra’s hair for proof Asra is here. Hands slide along the jut of his hipbones, across his belly, nails dragging through the hair on his abdomen. Nadia’s thighs rub soft and silken along his sides, coaxing him forward, inviting him, her lips curved and needing to be kissed.  
  
Asra pushes, and Nadia pulls, and Julian falls into her arms, plants messy kisses along the elegant curve of her neck, pants hot and wet in her ear, and then kisses her, or lets her kiss him, depending on how one looks at it. She squeezes at his shoulders, his upper arms, her finely manicured nails dragging lines against his skin, and it’s good, it’s so good.  
  
“Both,” Asra says, “Yes?” And then oil-slick fingers slip between Julian’s thighs, tease his scrotum, his perineum, circle around him before easing inside, two at once.  
  
Julian sighs and moans, pushing his thighs wider, and making room for himself between Nadia’s as he does so.  
  
“I do believe that is a yes,” Nadia says.  
  
“I was thinking that myself, Nadi.” Asra’s fingers curve just right, sending lightning pulses of pleasure through Julian, until he melts between them, into them, the rumble of Nadia’s laughter as keen as the tingle of Asra’s magic plucking warm and tingling over Julian’s skin.  
  
Asra works him open, and Julian would swear he uses magic, too. That he must draw on something to turn Julian warm and liquid and relaxed, pushing back into Asra’s fingers despite the siren call of the Countess beneath him. It’s impossible to choose. He wants both, and they torment him with that desire.  
  
Nadia’s lips are sweet, and Asra’s fingers are lightning, and Julian writhes between them, sweat painting his skin, surrounded by the scent of incense and fine soaps. The drag of Nadia’s fingers through his hair, across his scalp, her teeth applying a delicate pressure on his bottom lip, and then guiding him down, until he can nuzzle and taste a nipple with his mouth. She sighs and arches up against him, and Julian’s cock throbs with want.  
  
Asra’s fingers vanish, and Julian makes a desperate noise before he can stop himself. He tries to look over his shoulder but Nadia takes his chin in her hand and pulls him up into a kiss. Hands grip Julian’s hips, and Asra presses against him, blunt heat sliding slick between his thighs.  
  
“Both, Doctor?” Nadia asks, her face flushed, her hair spread beneath her in a messy spill, her robe ruched up and wrinkled around her body.  
  
“Please,” Julian says, and maybe he babbles a little, his fingers fisted against the thick cushion of the settee, his knees wobbling, his long legs awkward and folded, but he’s no interest in moving now.  
  
He wants them both. He wants them so much it feels clumsy on his tongue to ask so he kisses Nadia again, and leans back into Asra, and makes urgent noises in his throat until Asra finally pushes into him.  
  
Not slow. Asra is too infuriatingly smug to take it slow. He pushes, and he pushes, and Julian’s back arches as he’s filled, and Asra shifts and angles, and stars dance in the back of Julian’s eyes.  
  
Julian pants, pressing his forehead to Nadia’s collar, awkwardly gripping at the settee to brace himself. Her fingernails scrape over his scalp, and drag down his bare back, and his skin erupts in gooseflesh, his cock throbbing, his leg aching.  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh, no.  
  
It starts in his thigh, the one perilously perched on the edge of the settee, threatening to slide off and tumble him to the floor. It’s a twitch. Nothing really. Easily ignored. But Julian knows the shape of these twitches. Knows how they burn and ripple and tighten into a throb, then a cramp, then a radiating pain.  
  
He has to ignore it. Asra is setting a most delicious rhythm, and if he can just focus on the pleasure of it, on the scent of Nadia’s skin and the touch of her fingers, and the slide of Asra into him, he won’t even notice the twitch.  
  
The ripple.  
  
The burn.  
  
The tighten.  
  
The -- ah -- cramp.  
  
Julian grits his teeth, presses his forehead into Nadia’s collarbone, grips the thick cushion of the settee. Asra pushes into him particularly hard, and Julian grunts, his leg threatening to spasm, kick out. Work through it, Julian. Work through it.  
  
It’s just a cramp. It’s just a--  
  
Wait.  
  
Asra’s not moving anymore. HIs hands are still clamped on Julian’s hips, but he’s stopped moving. Nadia’s got a hand in his hair, she’s pulling his head up, and Julian smiles at her, winningly.  
  
“Why are we stopping?” he asks, and then his thigh spasms, and he can’t stop the wince or little hiss of in-drawn breath.  
  
“You,” Nadia says in a sharp, cold voice that speaks of all the trouble he’s brought down upon his head, “are in pain.”  
  
Julian huffs a little laugh. “It’s just a cramp. Nothing serious. You can keep going.”  
  
Nadia narrows her eyes into thin slits of disapproval. Asra mutters something behind him that might be a curse, only Julian doesn’t recognize the language. He squeezes Julian’s hips before he eases out and no, no, no. This isn't what he wanted at all.  
  
“Wait, don’t stop,” Julian says, but Asra isn’t listening, and neither is Nadia because they are both giving him stern looks of disapproval, and the only thing worse than would be if Mazelinka were here, too, shaking her spoon at him.  
  
Oh, bad thoughts. Very, very bad thoughts.  
  
“We,” Nadia says, and she pauses as if she’s shaping her words to express her anger around them, “are not here to suffer through discomfort, Doctor Devorak,” and Julian would duck his head from her disapproval if her grip on his hair wasn’t so absolute. “We are here for pleasure. If you are uncomfortable, you need only say.”  
  
“We’re moving to the bed,” Asra says.  
  
“Yes, we are,” Nadia agrees, and her hands slide from Julian’s hair as Asra tugs him back, giving Nadia room to move.  
  
Julian tries to stand, honestly he does, but his thigh protests the abrupt motion, and he stumbles, and Asra ducks under his arm to catch him before he topples like a clumsy idiot.  
  
Nadia rises, a queen on her throne, gathering her hair over one shoulder. She looks at Julian, chin lifted. “Coming?” She drifts gracefully toward her massive bed, rolling her shoulders to free them of the robe.  
  
It slides down her body, too slow to fall at a natural speed, caressing her skin on the way down. Julian stares, his insides twisting with hunger, and Asra stares, too. At least Julian’s not the only one drooling.  
  
“Well, I was coming,” Asra says in a dry tone, and he looks up at Julian with a raised eyebrow. “Do me a favor and cut the masochistic act. It’s no fun for any of us.”  
  
Julian shifts his weight, leaning a bit harder on Asra by consequence. “Asra, you almost sounded concerned about me. Is this the moment where you confess your undying love?”  
  
Asra rolls his eyes and starts toward the bed, and probably would have dropped Julian, if it hadn’t been for Nadia watching them. There’s impatience in her eyes, and Julian knows, she’s not done scolding him yet. The longer it takes for him to get to the bed, the longer he’ll feel her wrath.  
  
“Are we going to have to have another talk about unnecessary sacrifices, Julian?” Nadia asks as Julian tries to slide onto the bed with grace and sensuality, but then his legs tangle with Asra’s and they both go tumbling into the plush surface.  
  
For a moment, it’s pandemonium.  
  
Nadia laughs as Julian tries to right himself, and Asra curses. Julian’s leg still throbs, and he ends up on his back, Asra between his legs, but the offending thigh in Asra’s grip, the warmth of seeping into his muscles and leaving a gentle tingle in its wake.  
  
Julian groans and sinks into the bed, his flagging arousal suddenly renewed at the sight of Asra’s focus -- and genuine intent to make Julian feel better. His eyes glow a little, and the press of his fingers feel like heaven.  
  
“Is that better?” Nadia slides onto the bed beside him, her palm skimming over his abdomen before dragging downward, to give him a fine stroke.  
  
Julian makes a strangled sound, bucking up into the tunnel of her first, and Asra chuckles. “This isn’t conducive to teaching him a lesson,” Asra points out as his hands leave Julian’s thigh, and he nudges forward, back between Julian’s legs, curving them around Asra’s hips.  
  
He’s still firm, and Julian licks his lips. He’s gotten his mouth on Nadia, but not Asra, but perhaps they’re saving that for later. In the bath.  
  
Ohhh, the bath.  
  
“We can think about punishment at another time,” Nadia says as Asra slips back into place, nudging Julian before filling him again, slow this time. Achingly slow, and this is the punishment right here, tormenting Julian with this tedious pace.  
  
“Are you more comfortable now?” Nadia asks as she presses a kiss to the curve of his jaw and strokes him again and again, squeezing pearls of pre-come to the tip.  
  
Julian moans by way of answer. Especially when Asra bottoms out, grinds deep, and shifts just right to make him see stars. His fingers twist in the silken sheets, his back arches, and Nadia chuckles, the sound of it rolling over his ears delightfully.  
  
“I do believe you are.” Nadia sits up, tucks her hair over the other shoulder, her breasts swaying with the motion, and Julian wants to touch her, sweep his hands over her skin, but she scoots away before he can. “It’s my turn then, yes?”  
  
“By all means.” Asra stills, and Julian makes a noise of protest, but it dies in his throat when Nadia swings her leg over him, to straddle his hips.  
  
She’s a thing of beauty, hovering over his cock, and Julian goes whipcord tense with anticipation. He clutches her hips before he can stop himself, and Nadia gives him an indulgent smile, even as his thumbs sweep her hipbones.  
  
“If you were hoping to hear me beg, milady, you’re well on the way to getting what you want,” Julian says.  
  
“Really?” Nadia purrs and arches one sculpted eyebrow, her lips curved in such a way the words crowd on his tongue, until they’re caught behind his teeth.  
  
Does she want him on his knees? He’s happy to go there, if that’s what it’ll take to convince her to share.  
  
Asra hums and nuzzles into the side of Nadia’s neck, his eyes gleaming with mischief over her shoulder. “Come now, Nadi. Haven’t you tortured him enough?”  
  
“Yes, you have,” Julian says, as Nadia agrees, “I suppose I have,” and sinks down onto him.  
  
For a moment, Julian forgets to breathe, because she’s molten and slick and perfect. He trembles from the urge to thrust up, not that he could anyway with her weight on him, and Asra controlling his legs.  
  
He groans, long and low and deep, toes curling, gooseflesh spreading across his skin, before she’s fully seated, her lower lip tucked between her teeth, her eyes bright and heated.  
  
“There,” she breathes. “Now we can begin.”  
  
Julian makes an unintelligible noise. It, in fact, seems to be the only kind of noises he’s capable of making now. Because Asra starts to move, and Nadia starts to move, and he wonders if they’ve worked this out beforehand, this perfect rhythm of friction.  
  
Julian squirms on the bed, a riot of pleasure storming through him, and his eyes wide because he doesn’t want to miss a moment of this. Not a single glimpse of Asra’s hand curving around to fondle Nadia’s nipple. Of her tossing her head back to rest against his, the contrast of their skin and their hair like a gorgeous piece of art he could admire forever.  
  
They make him feel too many emotions to name, things that twist and tangle in his belly, forming spiraling knots and blooms which spread throughout his limbs. He wants to hold them close, and keep them forever, and it’s hard not to think they want the same thing, when they treat him like this, something they intend to keep.  
  
Julian sinks into the bed and gives up then, gives himself to them, and the pleasure radiates out in a fiery wave. Asra murmurs something appreciative, and Nadia’s soft laugh wraps around the three of them, and Julian moans, holding on, managing only to slide his fingers where they’ll do the most good, touching Nadia and making her shiver.  
  
She glows in pleasure, truly blossoms, and her skin takes on a sheen of sweat, her hair wild around her face, one hand tangled in Asra’s hair to keep him close. She clenches down on him when Julian strokes her right, and the throaty sound she makes sends electric fire up his spine. He quivers beneath them, and he probably babbles a slew of ridiculous noise, judging by Asra’s charmed laugh.  
  
Nadia surrenders first, skin flushed with a beatiful rosy glow, her face a rictus of ecstasy. She ripples around him, and she’s stunning, gorgeous. Julian watches, enraptured, until she bats his hand away from her clit, winks, and rolls her hips in perfect counterpoint to Asra.  
  
Julian’s breath catches in his throat. He thinks he ought to hold on, for Asra’s sake if nothing else, but they’re too beautiful, and they’ve been teasing him all night. Nadia leans over him, the ends of her hair tickling his collarbone, and Julian’s gone. He’s coming, spurting against Nadia’s inner thighs, clutching her down to him, their lips coming together in a sloppy kiss.  
  
He barely registers the hot spill of Asra a few thrusts after, but he’s definitely aware of the tangle their bodies become. Too-hot, too-sticky, covered in sweat, a pile of open-mouthed kisses and entangled limbs and laughter, too. Laughter because Julian accidentally kneed Asra in the stomach, and Asra pinned down Nadia’s hair, and Nadia scraped Julian with a finely manicured toe nail, but no one complains.  
  
Much.  
  
Nadia silences Asra’s apology with a kiss, and Asra outright covers Julian’s mouth when he stammers and fumbles. Julian thinks he’s not sure what he’s done to deserve this. Still isn’t sure he deserves it, but they’ve taught him he’s not to question it.  
  
He sinks into the bed, and their warm bodies curl around him, and Julian fights the smile on his lips. He soaks up their warmth, their tender touches. He lets himself indulge long enough to catch his breath. For a moment. Two. Dragging into three.  
  
Then he has to move, has to try and roll out of their embrace. There’s care to be done, and he’s the Doctor. That’s his role.  
  
Only.  
  
Only extricating himself from the pile is much harder than it ought to be when he finds himself at once pulled back into the bed.  
  
“And where do you think you’re going?” Nadia asks, her hand firmly planted on his chest, pushing him back into the mattress with little effort. It never ceases to surprise him how strong she is, how she can physically overpower both he and Asra without strain.  
  
Julian smiles up at her, sliding his fingers along the length of her arm. “To fetch refreshments and something to clean us with, of course.”  
  
“And what makes you think that’s your responsibility right now?” Asra asks as he pops up on Julian’s other side, his hair brilliantly tousled, one eyebrow raised.  
  
Julian blinks. “Because it… is?” He glances between them, and he can tell, there’s something in their expressions they are trying to say, but it feels lost in translation. “I’m the doctor. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”  
  
“No.” Asra, of all things, flicks his nose. “Right now, you are Ilya. And you--” he pauses to brush some hair out of Julian’s face, “are going to lay here and let us take care of you.”  
  
Asra rolls away and out of reach before Julian can snag him, rising gracefully from the bed without so much as a stumble, and Julian might be a tad jealous. Asra does everything with a dancer’s grace, as if the world adjusts itself to make sure he’s never an embarrassment. Though it is a shame when he grabs a nearly sheer robe and tugs it over his shoulders.  
  
“Well,” Julian says. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”  
  
Nadia flexes her fingers against his flushed skin. “It makes perfect sense actually, but I suppose it is a lesson we are going to have to teach you again and again.” Her lips curve, lip-paint smeared out of the elegant lines, and softening her features. “You’re quite troublesome, Julian. It is fortunate I happen to enjoy trouble.” She brushes his lower lip with her thumb.  
  
Julian tilts into her touch, his skin goosepimpling at the implication of her words. “You’re too kind to me.”  
  
“Only because you insist on refusing to recognize what you deserve.” Nadia tilts his chin to the side and nuzzles him, planting feather-light kisses along his jaw. “It is the same as any individual, to love and be loved, to care and be cared for.”  
  
“L-love?” Julian echoes and laughs quietly because he doesn’t know what else to do.  
  
“Yes, love, you foolish creature.” Nadia chuckles and pushes up, so that she can see into his eyes. Her hair cascades around her face, and Julian wants to run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.  
  
Julian licks his lips. “Well, of course, I mean. I am lovable after all. I am absolutely lovable. I have oodles of love to give.” His heart beats a wild rhythm, and he smiles as wide as he can.  
  
“Of course you do and are. Now if only you could say that and mean it,” Asra says as he returns, carefully balancing a tray, a steaming pot of something fragrant, three cups, and the basket swinging from his elbow.  
  
He can only have scrounged up all of that so quickly by relying on magic.  
  
Or Portia.  
  
Frankly, Julian would prefer the former. The last thing he needs is another round of Portia teasing him for needing _two_ lovers just to keep him out of trouble.  
  
Asra sets the tea aside but keeps the basket. He shucks out of his robe -- an improvement in Julian’s opinion -- and returns to the bed, now with damp cloths.  
  
“I knew I could count on you to keep him where he needs to be,” Asra says as he leans over Julian to share a kiss with Nadia, a sight which never ceases to make Julian’s heart pound.  
  
They are gorgeous together, such a contrast of colors and shapes, and sometimes, Julian swears he sees sparks, little arcane collisions.  
  
“Excuse you,” Julian says, to be contrary and because he can. “I am precisely where I need to be. That it happens to coincide with where you think I should be is beyond the point.”  
  
Asra looks down at him, and there’s a twinkle in his eye, a genuine smile on his lips that makes Julian’s heart go pitter-patter like it used to, only with a different song this time. A better song. A song that’s less about punishing and more about rewards.  
  
Asra slides down beside him, damp cloth in hand, and gets to work on Julian first, the cloth as warm as it is damp, the action unbelievably tender. Asra and tender hadn’t been two words Julian would have linked together before, but that he can have them now makes his heart thadump-dump in his chest.  
  
“You two are friction.” Nadia reclines on the bed, tucked up against Julian’s side, but still laying as though she owns everything in the bed, the room, all of Vesuvia. That it’s true is beside the point. “A lovely friction, granted, but friction regardless. It provides much entertainment.”  
  
“It’s Asra’s fault,” Julian says, which probably would have had more weight if Asra hadn’t spoken at the same time to say, “It’s because of Ilya.”  
  
Nadia throws her head back and laughs, a truly musical sound, and Julian sighs and decides to let it be. She’s right, of course. He and Asra have always had friction, as much as they’ve been friends, and after what happened during the Plague well…  
  
Julian hadn’t faulted Asra for his anger. He probably should have stood up for himself a bit more, but he hadn’t been thinking straight. Not that he thinks particularly direct now, but he’d like to think he’s gotten a little better about it.  
  
“You are impossibly stubborn,” Asra says, but his hands remain gentle as he wipes Julian down before tossing the cloth in the vague direction of a laundry bin. “But if anyone here is the fool, it’s me because I, for some reason, find that stupidly charming.”  
  
Julian beams. “So what you’re saying is that you can’t resist me?”  
  
Asra rolls his eyes, but his smile is fond, and when he leans down to kiss Julian, all he does is prove Julian right. His kiss is soft and sweet, far more than it is in the midst of sex, and Julian threads his fingers through Asra’s tousled hair like he’s been wanting to do all night. He laughs into the kiss, because there’s a bubbly feeling in his chest right now.  
  
A warm hand slides over his belly, and he startles on instinct before the hand slides up, tickling the underside of his chin. Asra leans back from the kiss, but Nadia replaces him, and Julian laughs as she kisses him, like they can’t decide who gets to have him more.  
  
Nadia’s hair slides through his fingers silky-smooth, and Julian blindly gropes for Asra, wanting to keep both of them close, their skin pressed to his, all three of their bodies entangled. Asra nudges closer, radiating heat that soaks all the way to Julian’s marrow, and he loves them. He knows he does.  
  
He hasn’t said it yet. But he will someday.  
  
When he’s ready.  
  


***

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into The Arcana fandom after being introduced by a friend and falling in immediate love. I hope to write more in the future so feedback is absolutely welcome and appreciated. :)


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